The Greatest Love Story
Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls. (1 Peter 1:8-9)
The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. (John 3:29)
As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you. (Isaiah 62:5)
I sleep, but my heart is awake;
It is the voice of my beloved!
He knocks, saying,
“Open for me, my sister, my love,
My dove, my perfect one (Song of Solomon 5:2)
Each day of the Eucharistic Congress had a central message. The second day: The greatest love story. Fr. Mike Schmitz gave a powerful and beautiful talk of the story we all think we know, the story of a Father Who gave His only Son for us. The phrase that Fr. Mike kept repeating was, “You guys know this, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.” Do we though? For myself, that love story unfolded in a whirlwind in those five glorious mountaintop days. It continues to unfold and reveal itself to me to this day. I shared that during the opening night of adoration we witnessed the triumphant entry of Jesus in the Eucharist to the proclaimation: He is here. As Jesus was brought to the altar I felt this truth resonate in every cell and I sensed the Lord ask me (rather cheekily), "[Do you feel me now?'] My answer to him was filled with both tears and laughter, “Yes Lord.” We were led through a simple prayer meditation, “Jesus, show me who you are.” As I repeated this prayer, closed my eyes, and entered my inner room, Jesus did not keep me waiting. In my mind’s eye I saw two hands forming a heart.
That image then became two hands holding a heart.
Which morphed into an Irish Claddagh ring
Jesus desires to be my Bridegroom, my Beloved. In that same moment of realization I was enveloped in a warmth as if someone had just draped a robe or blanket around my shoulders. Standing in the sea of 50,000 faithful, I became “the one”, the beloved, the betrothed. We might know the story, but we don’t truly live or experience the story when we remain in a spirit of passive observation. During our morning empower sessions we were repeatedly reminded that this love story isn’t a Hallmark movie but a Lifetime original (great pun). Jesus invites each of us into the betrothal in a uniquely beautiful way. The morning following my images of betrothal our very first speaker, Fr. John Burns, spoke to the heart of Jesus as Bridegroom. It was a moment of affirmation that the images I received in prayer were not my own. In Jewish custom in Jesus’ time, the bridegroom would travel to the intended’s home and draw up the marriage contract with her father. At that point, the bridegroom would then ask the intended if she would become betrothed. It was not simply a contract between two men, it was ultimately the decision of the woman to accept the bridegroom. Jesus approaches each of us similarly. He does not force the betrothal, He asks. When the woman gives her “yes” she is taken back to the bridegroom’s home for a celebratory feast (this is not yet the wedding) which symbolizes the provision and care to come. God is in the beautiful details. This is part of the love story that I certainly didn’t know. These small details can sometimes blow the story we thought we knew wide open. Jesus left us a betrothal feast, a promise of provision. We are invited to come to His earthly dwelling and to participate in His meal. Several years ago while attending weekday Mass I asked the Lord why these “extra” Masses always seemed so much more intimate and spiritual for me. I felt Him say, Sunday Mass is the obligation, but weekday Mass is a freewill ‘yes.’ The greatest love story is lived at every Mass. It is a lifetime original and Jesus awaits our ‘yes’. Come to the feast of heaven and earth. Meet your Bridegroom.
For reflection: Spend time with the Lord. Ask Him, “Show me who you are.”
If you skip or avoid Mass, ask yourself what is holding you back? Ask Jesus to give you a heart that can say ‘yes’ to meeting Him at Mass.
I have two videos below. The first is Fr. Mike’s talk at the Congress. Take the time to watch it and allow yourself to hear the story again. The second is a beautiful prayer that Fr. John Burns prayed over a group of Blessed is She retreat-ants. If you are a woman, you will not want to miss this.
Freely you have received; freely give.
The following reflection was started a week ago, so my time and scripture references are a week off.
Freely you have received; freely give. (Matthew 10:8)
He said to them, “I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you (Luke 22:13)
I have been away for awhile because our Lord called Jeff and I away. Jeff and I traveled down to Indianapolis with over 200 fellow Green Bay pilgrims to the National Eucharistic Revival. My heart is bursting and my mind buzzing to share with you a portion of the fire hose of grace that we received. I have been trying to figure out where to even begin and early this morning it dawned on me how the Gospel writers must have faced a similar challenge as they put quill to papyrus. I will begin as I often do, with this past Sunday’s Gospel.
The apostles gathered around Jesus and reported to him all they had done and taught. Then, because so many people were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat, he said to them, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” So they went away by themselves in a boat to a solitary place. But many who saw them leaving recognized them and ran on foot from all the towns and got there ahead of them. When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began teaching them many things. (Mark 6:30-34)
This Gospel was made fully present for me this past week. Many pilgrims, myself included, are the wearied apostles gathering together from our missionary corners of the United States. We are workers or volunteers striving to bring Jesus more fully into this world. We are parents longing to raise our children knowing Jesus. We share one commonality: we are swimming against the current of our current society and it can be exhausting. In some miraculous way Jesus called each of us to Indianapolis, “Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” In an even greater miracle Jesus made it possible in a sea of 50,000 for me to truly “get away”, to be renewed, to be refreshed, to be healed. My experience was extraordinary without a doubt but it is an experience that our Lord Jesus seeks to bring to every Christian walking this journey. I want to package up those 5 days of firehose grace and deliver them to each of you and I have been stuck in the mire and muck of “how.” I will try to bring to you the heart of the wisdom I received from the many talks we witnessed. I will try to bring you the heart of Jesus that He shared with me for His church. I will try to bring you the heart of the healing that Jesus brought about in areas of my own heart that I thought would simply be weeping and scarred this side of heaven. I will offer each of you my loaves and fish and trust the Lord to do the multiplying. I will follow the advice of Fr. Leo Patalinghug and bring it to you in bite size pieces.
This was effectively the kick off of the Eucharistic Congress. In a sea of 50,000 souls, these words stirred my heart with an excitement that I simply can’t describe. The excitement for the unknown. Before we ever left, as I shared with friends about this journey we were planning, I was often asked, “What are you hoping to receive?” My honest answer, “I am going in with the expectation that Jesus is getting ready to do great things. I have no expectation of what they are, but I trust it is going to be amazing.” The Lord had laid a good foundation this past Lent when Fr. Mike Schmitz shared the wisdom that expectations set us up for disappointment. When we expect something specific to happen or to go a certain way and it doesn’t, it takes us a beat to catch up to what the Lord is doing instead, which is always in some way better. I was able to enter this Eucharistic Congress not with my agenda for what I wanted Jesus to do, but a heart of openess for what he wanted to do. As these words, HE IS HERE, resonated to my very heart it was like transporting back 2000 years to the excitement of the crowds who eagerly awaited Jesus’ entry into their towns and villages, “He is here.”
Brothers and Sisters, the core Catholic belief in Jesus’ true presence in the Eucharist changes everything. HE IS HERE. We are not alone. We are not left with a veil between this world and heaven. We are invited to spend time physically in the presence of our Lord in His presence in the Eucharist. This is the first taste that I bring to you, the first bite, and it is the most important one. HE IS HERE in every Mass, in every church tabernacle and He awaits you. He eagerly desires to spend time with you. He is our Bridegroom waiting. I leave you with the talk from Sr. Bethany Madonna. It is about 25 minutes long so set aside some time to be able to receive her loaves and fish.
[Convergence]
[Convergence]: the process of state of converging: come together from different directions so as to eventually meet.
This weekend was my weekend to proclaim God’s Word at Mass. I usually begin early in the week with a quick ‘read through’ that culminates in ‘practice’ reading from the pulpit of my kitchen counter four or five times. One of the spiritual benefits of lecturning is that when Mass arrives, the Word has been thoroughly chewed upon. I’m not just reading, I’m allowing it to stir my heart and mind. This weekend I experienced a profound encounter with our Lord during Eucharist. The heavens didn’t open up. Angels weren’t seen circling the altar. I wasn’t miraculously healed of a thorn in my side (or now that I have finished the rough draft of this, perhaps I was- read on). My encounter was having Jesus come to me in those quiet moments following my reception of the Eucharist and explaining the reading even further just for me. As I closed my eyes and allowed myself to find the quiet stillness, this is what Jesus shared…
But you shall say to them: “Thus says the Lord God!” And whether they heed or resist- for they are a rebellious house- they shall know that a prophet has been among them. (Ezekiel 2:4-5)
We are all called to be prophets, it is part of our baptismal identity. It came to me during communion that the modern day lingo for prophet is evangelization. To be a prophet is simply to share what God is saying or doing in my life with another. Jesus highlighted the words, “whether thy heed or resist.” Jesus showed me a thorn in my side. I had been praying this week with St. Paul’s second reading (still to come!) and asking Jesus what thorns in my side He wanted to show me. One of my thorns is my belief that success is in convincing the people I am sharing God with. Jesus showed me that success is the sharing. My call is to share and allow the seeds that I plant to do what they will, that is His job. Moving on to St. Paul’s second reading…
A thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of satan. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but He said to me, My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:8-9)
Jesus next showed me a thorn that is common to many Catholics: difficulty with the true presence of Jesus’ body, blood, soul, and divinity, in the Eucharist. For myself it is a thorn of desire. I want to experience what I know to be true in my heart and mind. I want the mystical at every Mass! In the last two years I have had the incredible grace to have 5 such moments (for context that’s out of at least 300 Masses). Jesus assures me in this Eucharistic moment that the power of His very self floods my weakness of senses and sustains me independent of my perception. This brought Jesus to the Gospel…
Jesus departed from there and came to his native place, accompanied by his disciples. When the sabbath came he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astonished. They said, “Where did this man get all this? What kind of wisdom has been given him? What mighty deeds are wrought by his hands! Is he not the carpenter, the son of Mary, and the brother of James and Joses and Judas and Simon? And are not his sisters here with us?” And they took offense at him. Jesus said to them, “A prophet is not without honor except in his native place and among his own kin and in his own house.” So he was not able to perform any mighty deed there,
apart from curing a few sick people by laying his hands on them.
He was amazed at their lack of faith. (Mark 6:1-6)
What Jesus shared next was one of those moments of knowing, knowing God’s voice from my own. These are the words He shared during communion.
Is it not just a piece of bread? Is it not just wheat and water? Is it not made by human hands?
This Gospel plays itself out at EVERY Mass in the hearts of countless Catholics. Jesus Christ made present to us, His family, in His own house, in the seemingly ordinary and we miss it. Let’s stop missing it. The best advice I can give is experience. I started praying for greater Eucharistic faith and encounter four years ago and He has met me in my weakness with His divine power. This is a thorn that Jesus longs to remove and heal. Jesus took my preparation with the Word and used that opening to share the thorns of my spiritual life. The Holy Spirit set me on my feet to take what the Lord has done and share it with each of you today: prophecy. That my friends is the [Convergence] available to each of us through the power of prayer in the Mass. Amen.
Freedom from…
“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” (Mk 4:38)
When I was a small girl there are two events that formed within me a fear that I have not fully overcome: a fear of climbing heights. Not heights themselves but climbing them. Two falls from my childhood solidified this fear. Eight months ago on a day pilgrimage to Holy Hill, my friend Pam and I were climbing the 200 or so steps to view the surrounding Kettle Moraine countryside via the cathedral’s bell tower. As the closed in staircase became a suspended metal staircase hanging in the middle of the wide open bell tower I froze. I tried prayer, I tried not looking out, I tried reasoning with myself, but all to no avail; I could not climb to the top. One week ago Jeff and I were celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary at Ishnala on Mirror Lake. I mistakenly took a deer path instead of the state park path and found myself climbing an embankment in Croc slides when my fear took hold (shortly after my Crocs failed to take hold and I impaled my palm on a thorn). Jeff had to come pull me that last few feet up.
I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:8-9)
Last week Wednesday, continuing our anniversary celebration with ill chosen paths, Jeff and I found ourselves climbing yet again. We were at Devil’s Lake State Park for the first time. We started out smart on the easy path around one side of the lake, but then I became fixated on climbing to Balanced Rock, forgetting the parks descriptions of the paths offered. What had been a paved meandering path winding through the granite boulders became granite stones stacked into a narrow winding staircase climbing, climbing climbing. There were no railings, and often no differentiation between intentional steps and the natural boulders surrounding us. The familiar fear took hold about halfway to the top. We had no clear idea how much further we had to climb yet and no idea what the way down looked like. The Devil seemed to have me between a rock and a hard place, literally (pun intended). When a hiker climbing down our “staircase” assured me there was an easier path down at the top it solidified for me that the only way out of this hell was up. As I resolutely resumed my climb (thank God in tennis shoes and NOT Crocs!) God broke through. On a stone in front of me a butterfly alighted and then flew just in front of me up the next 20 or so steps keeping step with me. God had been speaking to me all month of my sojourn at the cottage in the form of abundant butterflies and this lone butterfly on the side of the mountain was not overlooked. He was letting me know that I was going to be okay. Jesus had calmed the sea of my stormy fear.
God also planted a phrase in this inexperienced hikers brain, [Maintain three points of contact]. And so I finished the climb with one or both hands stabilizing wherever they could. The way back down was indeed easier and opened my soul to a litany of praise to God: Thank you for getting me safely to the top, thank you for my knees and hips holding up, thank you for giving me the courage to do something way outside my comfort zone, thank you for the incredible view, thank you for the butterfly. We celebrate the Fourth of July this week: Independence Day. It is a celebration of freedom. Last week for a space of time God lifted the burden of my fear, He freed me from a fear of falling. This Independence Day let’s chuck Separation of Church and State and invite God’s movement into the areas of our life where fear resides. When we are done having a conversation with Him about our fears, lets take an opportunity to lift this country in prayer, not for our will, for where we feel it should go, but for His will, and where only He can lead. Amen.
I will extol you, O Lord, for you have drawn me up,
and did not let my foes rejoice over me.
O Lord my God, I cried to you for help,
and you have healed me.
O Lord, you brought up my soul from Sheol,
restored me to life from among those gone down to the Pit. (Psalm 30)
Again, Again, Again
The Lord Speaks
Then the Lord spoke to Job out of the storm. He said:
“Who is this that obscures my plans
with words without knowledge?
Brace yourself like a man;
I will question you,
and you shall answer me.
“Who shut up the sea behind doors
when it burst forth from the womb,
when I made the clouds its garment
and wrapped it in thick darkness,
when I fixed limits for it
and set its doors and bars in place,
when I said, ‘This far you may come and no farther;
here is where your proud waves halt’? (Job 38:1-11)
Jesus Calms the Storm
That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (Mark 4:35-41)
I have recently watched two movies where an individual was trying to perfect a skill. Their seemingly heartless instructor gave the same simple command to each of them over and over, “Again.” Again. Again. Again. My parents are 80 and let’s face it they are getting “old.” I am not disparaging them, they have been claiming to be “old” for a decade now. Their lives this past year have reflected the stormy sea many times over, but especially this past week: a beloved brother-in-law in hospice, a brother in the ICU, a decades old friend moving away, and a bike accident and ER visit to top it all off. Stormy indeed. This past Sunday, before the storms mentioned, my mom shared that she struggled with the constant anxiety of “what will happen next.” I prayerfully reflected on how to best respond. Some could look at that attitude at lack of faith. That is not what the Lord showed me in that moment. I asked my mom a simple question, “Thus far, have you been able to handle everything that has happened?” She replied, “Yes.” That friends is having Jesus in the boat. I told her to look at everything she has weathered and to recognize that it is God who equips her each time. I told her a truth she probably didn’t want to hear: the storms are going to keep coming, don’t worry about IF they will, or WHAT they will look like. Accept simply that the storms will come and when they do trust that the Lord will see you through and equip you just as He has already done. I told her to pray, “Lord you have given me what I need so far, I trust that you will continue to do so.” When wave after wave is crashing over the boats of life we can feel like God is the taskmaster repeating: Again. Again. Again. All the while Jesus is in the boat waiting for us to stop responding with anxiety and to start responding with trust. “Why are you terrified?” Poop happens, again and again in life, independent of our relationship with the Lord, the difference is whether we are going to react to it or respond to it. To react is to give our flight or fight response control. To respond is to allow our relationship with God to control our flight or fight reaction. To respond is to live a life of trust built up over a lifetime of being delivered to the other side.
Some went out on the sea in ships;
they were merchants on the mighty waters.
They saw the works of the Lord,
his wonderful deeds in the deep.
For he spoke and stirred up a tempest
that lifted high the waves.
They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;
in their peril their courage melted away.
They reeled and staggered like drunkards;
they were at their wits’ end.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
and he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
the waves of the sea were hushed.
They were glad when it grew calm,
and he guided them to their desired haven.
Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind.
Let them exalt him in the assembly of the people
and praise him in the council of the elders. (Psalm 107)
Why am I here?
Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.
Then a voice said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”
He replied, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.” (1 Kings 19:11-16)
Today’s scripture from the first book of Kings is a heartstring foundational scripture for me. God is in the whisper. Today I reflect on this passage in the outdoor glory of Kingston, day 14 of my sojourn. Today my heart is drawn to God’s question, “What are you doing here?” What a profound question He asks! God is asking so much in this simple question. God is asking Elijah what situations, decisions, and emotions have brought him to this place and time. God is also asking what Elijah is seeking in this place and time. Today as I reflect on these Words I see that Elijah is himself on a sojourn seeking solace. Doing the will of God has not played out to Elijah’s expectations and so he is in a cave running from his circumstances. He has, in a sense, jumped from the frying pan and into the fire as so beautifully portrayed in the wind, and the earthquake, and the fire. We run in so many different ways in our lives and in our relationships don’t we? In my own life God has come to me time and again in my caves of solitude asking me in sense the same question, “Why are you here?” The heart of my answer is usually that I am where I am because I am unhappy with the circumstances of my life. As I draw deeper from the well of discipleship, this translates to: I am unhappy with what You God are doing in my life right now. Isolating myself from God only adds to the chaos in the wind of fear, the earthquakes of anxiety, and the fire of anger. The way out is to quiet the noise of chaos and retune our ears to His quiet whisper, “Why are you here?” I cannot run or hide from our mighty God, His very Spirit resides within me. This morning, in the sunshine, on the patio, free from chaos, I allow God to ask me His question, “Why are you here?” My answer comes on the words of a great saint,
“My soul is restless until it rests in you.” ~St. Augustine
On any given day, in any given hour this line speaks truth to my current reality. I am where I am in the choices and actions I have made and taken, because, at the center of my being, I desire Him. I am here at Kingston because my soul is restless and seeks The One who can bring it rest. Today I see the deeper truth. On this side of heaven, I will never achieve the lasting rest I seek, for while He resides in me, I do not yet reside in Him. This brings me an odd peace. I can let go of the unrealistic expectation that if I just work harder at this life of holiness, I will accomplish what I desire. We cannot hide from God. We cannot outrun this restlessness. We can only submit, listen, pray, and take the next step forward which leads us finally to our eternal restfulness in Him. As I pondered all these things in my heart and looked out toward the woods a fawn darted out of the woods towards me frolicking at the edge of the long grass before darting back the way it came, most likely called back by its mother. Words of wisdom settled on my heart, [He resides in us that we may one day reside in Him."] Amen.
Saving us from ourselves
You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming… But in keeping with his promise we are looking forward to a new heaven and a new earth, where righteousness dwells.
So then, dear friends, since you are looking forward to this, make every effort to be found spotless, blameless and at peace with him. Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote you with the wisdom that God gave him. (1 Peter 3:11-15)
As I read this scripture early this week the Words “Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation” struck a chord of remembrance. During a homily, Father shed light on what this truth means in our day to day lives. At any given time whether we are aware or not we are waiting on God’s answer to prayer. We are waiting for fulfillment of somekind: restoration to health, new life within our family, provision of a new house, or new job, creation of fellowship in a new friendship or a new romance. At any given time in life we are waiting on something. I used to be a very impatient waiter. Once an idea sprung into my head, I was ready for its fulfillment yesterday. Often times in my impatience I have been known to settle. I rush in with my solution to my need or want without waiting on the Lord’s patience. God works in our very secular experiences to teach us His greater truths. As I read these scripture passages what came to mind was the evolution of our family vacations to Disney. On our very first trip to Disney 23 years ago we were consumers of the highest degree: fear of missing out. I thought this might be the ONLY trip to Disney and so we had to see everything, eat everything, and along the way buy SOMETHING from each section of each park. I wanted to hold onto this vacation long after we left. Before we even got on the plane several of these momentos had lost their shine, many more shortly after returning home. Two years ago we made our most recent trip to Disney with our adult kiddos. Much has changed with our approach. We know where the best food is to be found. We know the rides that suit our fancy. And we don’t buy much of anything until the final days of the trip. Instead as we go along we take pictures of the items that catch our fancy. Towards the end of the trip we make wiser decisions about which items we will truly treasure and use and be reminded fondly of our time together. In other words, we have learned the art of exhibiting patience in consumption to allow for the greatest experience. So what is it that caught my eye and mind in this scripture? Our Lord’s patience means salvation. When we are waiting on the fulfillment of our desires and we are growing impatient with God’s timing ,we are called by St. Peter to be found at peace in Him. Why? This is where Father shared wisdom weeks ago. When God seems slow to answer prayer, He is demonstrating Holy Patience. The patience to wait until the greatest good can be achieved in the answer to our prayer, our dreams, our desires. God’s patience is indeed our salvation because as we wait in peace, trusting Him, He is drawing us always into greater holiness. I have reminded myself of this truth often in the past weeks (evidence of its’ timely deliverance). It is okay that this dream or desire (fill in blank) has not been fulfilled. God is being patient where I am impatient. He is not acting out of anger, or spite, or disappointment, but out of Love and His desire to bring me fully into His kingdom.
Chapter and Verse
Sitting in Mass earlier this week these words came to me, [Chapter and Verse]. I reflected on how each gospel is made up of chapters and within each chapter verses and that at the end are ‘final verses.’ In my life right now there are a lot of chapters that seem to be closing simultaneously: the nesting period of motherhood and the dynamics of family, Jeff as the worker bee outside the home, my parents time with me on this earth, even some of the ministries that I have been a regular fixture in. We get to choose the language of our final verses. How do we end the chapters of our life? This week James is home before heading off to Canada fishing and then he is back to Madison until his job starts in Milwaukee. It may be the last time that we have him home for an extended visit. While James forgot Mother’s Day this year, he committed this week to the two of us spending time together and doing whatever I would like. This week we spent time revisiting earlier chapters of our story together: the zoo, the botanical gardens, the farmer’s market, Bay Beach (today), along with some of our favorite restaurants. I feel we are ending these verses sailing off into the sunset so to speak. As James and I travel in these final verses, I am also closing a chapter of another year of service at our parish. I am taking the month of June off and living at the cottage, a retreat of sorts. I have been tying up loose ends at church and even stepping down from roles that simply didn’t fit well. This past week I ran into two women who are starting new chapters of their own and they are filled with plans for their future that excite them. These conversations have allowed fear to creep into some of my final verses: What if I don’t have anything to do? What if I am no longer called upon to serve? What if these past several years were the peak and it’s all downhill from here? I entered prayer this morning with all this weighing on my mind and heart combined with a low level of anxiety that I haven’t updated this website all week and that I was feeling very empty handed. As I sat with God in an awkward silence I thought, “I lack a driving force right now.” The truth of this resonated and I know the source of that driving force in my life is the Holy Spirit. “Are you upset with me Holy Spirit?” Even after all these years these fears can still rise to the surface. Compound this with today’s Gospel…
12 The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. 13 Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. 14 Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard him say it…20 In the morning, as they went along, they saw the fig tree withered from the roots. 21 Peter remembered and said to Jesus, “Rabbi, look! The fig tree you cursed has withered!” (Matthew 11)
My fears would not seem to be without precedent. Fears often stem from lies that we believe. In this case, my believing that taking some time off will result in being cut off. I quickly rebuked that lie and asked Jesus to show me the truth that He wanted me to see. An image of a beautiful flowering vine in resplendent glory came into my mind. It became that of a rose. In our garden we have many roses that are everblooming. As I prayed into this image I was reminded that while the roses will bloom throughout the summer, they are not continuously in “full bloom.” Instead they have bursts of blooms followed by periods of a few scattered blooms. During these periods of low bloom, they are restoring their energy. I am not to fear the curse of the Fig Tree. God has set this retreat time as a period of restoration. For the first time in years my calendar is relatively empty. Tomorrow I begin a new chapter. I do not know what that chapter will hold, but I know Who holds that chapter. My final verses of today’s chapter will be the joy the Lord has provided for me in the quiet morning reflection of His Word. A beautiful affirmation of that joy met me as I carried my laptop out to the garden to write this: a monarch butterfly taking full advantage of my thyme in bloom. Don’t let the chapters of life close on the verse of a lie. God longs to fill all of our chapters with verses of truth that set our sails into the next chapter with our Beloved.
Set Free from Doubt: Go!
The eleven disciples went to Galilee,
to the mountain to which Jesus had ordered them.
When they all saw him, they worshiped, but they doubted.
Then Jesus approached and said to them,
"All power in heaven and on earth has been given to me.
Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations,
baptizing them in the name of the Father,
and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,
teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.
And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age." (Matthew 28:16-20)
This is an unusual week for my Living the Word reflection because it has arisen from this Sunday’s Gospel. So in a sense here is my personal Lectio Divina reflection for this week. My husband Jeff is preparing to retire this upcoming January. I have now been retired for four years! Given our relatively ‘young’ ages for retirement we would be considered part of the F.I.R.E. movement (Financial Independence Retire Early). This was a desire that we believe God planted in our hearts 29.5 years ago on New Year’s Day while watching football with some friends. One of our friend’s dad was at our little gathering and newly retired at the young age of 50 something. This stirred something in both Jeff and I to have conversations about our own future and our own desires regarding work. As I look back over these past 29 years I can see God’s providence in our lives time and time again financially. What does this have to do with this particular Gospel? Good Question! I love to read financial columns that address retirement. Many that I see are scenarios from financial guru’s like Suze Oreman and Dave Ramsay. If Jeff and I were to listen to the wisdom of these ‘experts’ we would never retire. I say that because I have yet to see an article where they tell someone, “Well done, good and faithful servant, now go and enjoy your harvest.” They are doomsdayers to say the least. They live in the valley of doubt and fear: doubt of the economy, doubt of health, fear of life expectancy. Jesus knows all about doubt and fear: two of the prisons that His cross is meant to free us from. Jesus appears resurrected to the disciples. The disciples response? They are awed and amazed and they praise God. And they doubt. Here is just one example of how I know the Holy Spirit inspires scripture. Why include that fact? Doesn’t it take away from the validity of the resurrection? Jesus and the Holy Spirit want to encourage us about doubt, it is a very human response. The cross and resurrection do not free us from doubt, they free us from the prison of doubt. The prison of doubt is our inability to move forward in mission, the inability to live today fully, to be consumed by the uncertainty of tomorrow, and the need to know every angle before taking action. Suze Oreman and Dave Ramsay can never tell someone it is ‘safe’ to retire because they are imprisoned in the cell of doubt and fear. Jesus, knowing that doubt lingered, still sent His disciples on mission, and then He left them in the care of the Holy Spirit. When I allow doubt and fear to creep into my day I remind myself of who my Financial Advisor is: God. Jeff and I can step into this next chapter of our lives not because of a number on a spreadsheet or financial algorithm (although those are helpful), but ultimately because we know Who placed this desire on our hearts 29 years ago. We will never be able to plan for every possible scenario, but we have a loving and provisional Father who does.
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? (Matthew 6:25-27)
Plan BE
Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)
Be unmoveable (1 Corinthians 15:58)
Be of one mind (Romans 12:16)
Be renewed in spirit (Ephesians 4:23)
“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” ~ Snickers
This weekend I am giving a talk at our parish during a Ladies Tea: The Spirituality of Journaling. The Holy Spirit inspired this idea in a moment when I was on the cusp of politely declining helping with the tea. I had just finished the Blessed is She retreat, and looking ahead I felt things piling up. God has a great sense of humor; no sooner had I told my husband, Jeff, that I would decline, and Holy Spirit swooped in and laid out this talk and showed me His heart in why it was so important. Prayer Journaling as many of you know is near and dear to my heart, it is a core tenet of my relationship with God; it is a treasured gift. Two years ago God placed a dream upon my heart, another gift. God planted the seed of silence, “Be still.” That dream was planted during a two week period that I was at the cottage, for the most part, alone. I had this deep desire to be able to spend one whole month at the cottage in the peace of nature, the peace of quiet, the peace of isolation, away from the day to day demands of my life. I dreamed of time to ponder, time to write, time to be. This past Christmas I worked up the courage to ask my Dad if I could have the cottage for the month of June and he graciously agreed. Back to prayer journaling. It has been weeks, literally weeks, since I have written anything in my prayer journal that has given me a, “Then sings my soul…” moment. The reason for this is that I have been living Plan A. Plan A is what I would like to call a person’s default life mode. For the past several years my Plan A is one of busyness. My “yeses” to others and to ministry outnumber the hours of sane productivity that I have to give. The fruit of this (or lack thereof) has shown in my journaling and in some of the relationships of my life. This past weekend I watched my son (our youngest) graduate from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. As the various speakers shared their ‘wisdom’, I jotted some great lines down in the notes section of my phone. The title for this reflection is one such line. Plan BE: not as a backup plan for the failed Plan A, but to live authentically who you are. This inspired me to search for biblical moments where we are commanded to “BE.” The four I share above speak to my heart from our Lord to my current Plan A. You see, I have been talking myself out of my month long escape dream. There is still so much to do, it would be easier to just stay home and go on weekends, what about… In all of these inner debates I am anything but of “one mind.”And my tendency to compromise Plan Be will definitely not imitate being “immovable.” I am reminded today that I have neglected “being still.” All of these things combined mean that I am not allowing myself to “be renewed in the spirit.” This has indeed made me hangry in a sense and less than who I want to be and a Snickers bar won’t fix this state of spiritual hunger (I wish). As Pentecost approaches I renew my commitment to Plan BE. I embrace the dream that God planted, knowing that at this moment in time, His stillness was the Divine medicine I would need. It is so easy to fill our hours, days, and months with busyness. Even busyness of the best sort, that in giving of our time, talent, and treasure to others, must be punctuated with Plan BE: Be still, Be unmovable, Be of one mind, Be renewed in Spirit.
The inevitability of Change
Jesus said to his disciples:
"I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.
But when he comes, the Spirit of truth,
he will guide you to all truth.
He will not speak on his own,
but he will speak what he hears,
and will declare to you the things that are coming.
He will glorify me,
because he will take from what is mine and declare it to you.
Everything that the Father has is mine;
for this reason I told you that he will take from what is mine
and declare it to you." (John 16:12-15)
“I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.” Today’s Gospel stirred so many things in my early morning brain. First, we are never done growing in our relationship with God. I think our current educational model hinders us in our relational model of what it means to be Christian. My son, James, will be graduating from the University of Madison in just three days and I know that he is ready to be “done.” I remember feeling the exact same way at the end of every academic year myself. The mere thought of having to put ourselves through more knowledge than is absolutely necessary makes our brains hurt. We have a human tendency to get by with the minimum amount of required knowledge to “pass.” I know that when I was confirmed in Christ when I was 16 I had a similar sentiment of being “done.” This morning Jesus speaks to me as clearly as He spoke to His disciples, “I have much more to tell you, but you cannot bear it now.” As I walk with Jesus and come to His feet again and again in prayer, sacrament, and His Word, He indeed slowly unfolds greater depth to the truth of Who He is and what that means for who I am called to be. This is always accompanied by change. I am called to change the way that I respond to God and the way that I respond to the world. This brings forth another human tendency, to resist change. Just this past weekend my mom made the very statement, “I hate change.” I used to feel very similarly and at times I find myself falling into that trap. Change is a never ending unavoidable part of life. The physiological body that I occupy today is not the same as it was yesterday. Some days these changes are much more perceptable than others, but they are there whether we acknowledge them or not. The world filled with physiological bodies is not the same today as it was yesterday. So too with the spiritual world. This world made up of bodies of free will is constantly shifting, changing, moving, adapting, and reacting. We try to believe the lie that things won’t change, that they don’t have to change and so we resist change. In doing so we create within both our physical and spiritual selves tension, frustration, angst. God, He Who is unchanging, is the author of change. Jesus, His Son, is the answer to the human dilemma of change. Jesus came that we might have life in abundance through the Holy Spirit. The Holy Spirit is our guide to navigating the waters of change that we face day by day. We have a choice though. As the saying goes, “We can do this the hard way or the easy way.” We can resist change and try to control the variables expending more time, energy, and spirit -OR- we can surrender. We can accept that we can’t control everything especially change and we can invite the Holy Spirit to guide us to all truth. Change when guided by the Spirit of Truth takes us deeper into a relationship with God. When we do so we release the grace that Jesus promised, “Everything that the Father has is mine;
for this reason I told you that he will take from what is mine
and declare it to you." Jesus wants to give us everything. The path to everything is a path of lifelong learning and change. We are never done with either. If any of you have graduates in your life and they victoriously declare, “I’m done!” wisely answer, “No, you’re just beginning the great adventure of life.” Come Holy Spirit Come!
This is how I fight my battles…
For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 6:2)
Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. (Ephesians 6:11)
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. (1 Peter 5:8)
Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. (James 4:7)
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly. (John 10:10)
So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober. (1 Thessalonians 5:6)
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)
Brothers and Sisters, the list of bible verses I could quote regarding the enemy goes on and on. The enemy is real and possibly the hardest aspect of my walk of faith with Jesus. Spiritual Warfare hits hard and heavy when I myself am stepping out hard and heavy for the Lord. On the plus side, it is usually a good indicator that the direction I am headed is the right one, the enemy wouldn’t bother otherwise. This week Jeff and I were facilitating a prayer session called Inner Healing. Inner Healing isn’t anything we do, but we are instead trained to guide a prayer conversation between one who is seeking healing and God. It is powerful! I have shared before my awe at the incredible grace that God can provide. As much as our incredible generous God seeks our healing and our wholeness, there is another who will fight that good with every tool in his arsenal: the enemy, the devil. The attacks on Jeff and I started Sunday and continued through to the writing of this post (Wednesday). This time the enemy came after our kids as well as us. Many of you might be wondering what a spiritual attack looks like. Well it can look differently in each situation, but a good general gist is think of the days where you have a rain cloud like Eeyore above your head. Nothing goes right, it feels like everything is fighting your good intentions. Those thoughts of self recrimation creep in: “You’re a bad mom.” “Nothing you’re doing is making a difference.” “You should just quit, this isn’t worth it.” On Monday I was wise to the ploys of the devil and headed to church. I was really emotionally low and worried if I was in the right frame of mind for the healing session that evening. My mind kept calling up one of my previous Encounter classmates who prayed often with me and I kept feeling like I should reach out, but told myself that it was a little late notice. As I turned to offer peace to the person sitting behind me in Mass, I was brought to tears to see that it was the very friend I had been thinking to call all morning. We were both at the same Mass that wasn’t at either of our parishes so this coincidence is significant. After Mass she offered to pray with me and I was so grateful that God had made the call that I didn’t. Shortly after I got home, I received a text from ANOTHER, Encounter School classmate who I have not talked with in almost 2 months. He shared that God was telling him to pray for me that day and did I have any special intentions. More tears of gratitude ensued. Our prayer session went really beautifully and I was so grateful for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit in so many ways for both Jeff and I, but more importantly for really being present to the person we were praying with. Evening Came and Morning Followed, the second day. To put it mildly all (bleep) let loose for Jeff and I yesterday both at work for Jeff and with our son. At 6:00pm Jeff fled to Mass while I met up with a friend to drop off a birthday present. What was supposed to be a quick 10 minute drop off turned into a two hour prayer and support session for myself. Jeff was graced with a “guest” priest giving a fantastic sermon addressing how to face fear and failures (which were very fitting to our situation). Jeff and I joined together multiple times to pray. I went to bed with greater peace. Evening Came, Morning Followed, the third day. I fled to Mass this morning. Gazing upon our Savior on the Cross I really internalized what surrender looks like. It looks like opening your arms wide to the Father’s will even when it isn’t your own. I don’t know what today or tomorrow still holds. I don’t know what God’s will will look like particularly with my son in this situation. Here is what I do know: I know that God is Good and that He can work everything for good. I know that God is stronger than the enemy and that Jesus soundly defeated the enemy on the cross and in the grave. I know that I am on the winning side of this battle. I know that my definitive victory does not lie on this side of the grave, I am not living for victory on earth; I am living for victory in heaven. I know that I am not alone. God has shown me again and again that He is with us in this. I know that I have been given tools to fight the enemy. I am going to share with you some of those tools. First, last, always: prayer. More specifically call out the devil and tell him where to go, model Jesus in this, ‘Satan, get behind me.’ I usually say, ‘Satan, go to hell.’ And this is important, I mean what I say. I have learned to truly get mad at him, to point my anger where it belongs. I call on prayer warrior friends to help me in prayer, those friends include the great cloud of witnesses, our Saints. I call on angels to protect me and my family. I call on St. Michael to do his thing. I go to Mass. I go to confession. I enter into scripture and God’s Word. This is how I fight the battles that the enemy rages. One of the greatest lies in modern times is that the enemy is fictitious. Who do you think spread that lie? Jesus didn’t think the enemy was fictional, the apostles didn’t think the enemy was fictional. Brothers and Sisters if you aren’t doing so already, start telling satan where to go. Start taking back the authority you have in your baptism (and believe me, you have the authority). Amen!
Below are two good anthems for you in times of trial and battle. The first was sent to me by one of those prayer warriors I mentioned! The second came to me as I was gazing upon our Savior on the Cross.
Hot Takes
And he said to them, “Therefore every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.” Matthew 13:52
This scripture passage first pierced my heart years ago when watching the very first season of The Chosen. I quickly looked it up and dutifully wrote it down in my prayer journal. It was one of the first scripture verses that I felt spoke to my charismatic gift of writing. I too take from what is old (scripture) and mix in the new (how it applies to my life). In May I will be giving a talk at a women’s tea: The Spirituality of Journaling. Everything that I have shared with others has been the fruit of this prayer practice. I hold it very close to my heart. I have been in a little bit of a slump of discouragement lately and facing this weeks “postings” for this website was an exeercise in procrastination. This morning I took time to look back at what was ‘old’ for this scribe, namely my journal pages from the past several weeks. As I did so I came across a brief entry of ‘wisdom’ I received from our Lord with the idea of [Hot Takes]: sharing shorter insights that touch my heart and not the full ‘essay’ versions all the time. This is the fruit of journaling: when we feel that things have been dry or we feel discouraged we can pour over our ongoing love letter with the Lord and be reminded of His steadfast love and faithfulness. Withour further ado, I share with you some of my ‘Hot Takes’ from the past weeks…
Be still and know that I am God (Psalm 46:10)
[Be still. Let me work on you daughter. Let me help. Let me in.] In order to have the Dentist tend to our teeth, we must be still. In order to have the doctor tend to our bodies, we must be still. The first line of healing injured tissue? Rest, ie being still. Wherever we are asking God to enter our circumstances, the true posture of invitation is stillness. In other words, we need to stop scrambling to fix it ourselves.
(The following is a tweaked prayer that floated into my mind as I drifted off to sleep, I quickly got up and wrote it down.)
God grant me the courage to face the things I would rather avoid.
The humility to acknowledge the things I just don’t know.
And the faith to accept Your will in both cases.
Amen.
When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him, and he disappeared from their sight. 32 They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” (Luke 24:30-32)
The Spirituality of Journaling: Making a record of our moments of encounter with Jesus. Even if they seem few and far between they are meant to be held close.
Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little (Matthew 25:21)
My morning prayer and my journaling are two of my ‘little things’ that I am faithful over. Faithful is not obedient. It goes beyond doing something from obligation to doing something from the heart. I pray and write not because I am supposed to, but because it is an expression of my love.
The Good Shepherd
Beloved:
See what love the Father has bestowed on us
that we may be called the children of God.
Yet so we are. (1 John 3:1)
If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! (Matthew 7:11)
I am the good shepherd,
and I know mine and mine know me (John 10)
This Sunday we celebrate Jesus as the Good Shepherd. Several weeks ago I had a beautiful experience of this. Jeff and I were invited by a couple in our parish to attend a gala supporting the Catholic classical school here in Green Bay. My Shepherd’s first nudge came in both Jeff and I feeling that we should go ahead and purchase the tickets, it sounded like fun. Why is this the first nudge? Jeff and I walked our children through 18 consecutive years of Catholic education which includes the expected support of the yearly auction night. When our children finally matriculated we were both relieved to be relieved of that particular obligation. On top of that, our children attended different schools than the one this auction would be supporting. While I carried the invitation around with the good intention of buying our tickets, I am a classic procrastinator and it wasn’t until the second to last day that tickets could be purchased that I went online. Tickets were in fact sold out. We had missed the boat. The next week at church I had to admit to our friends that we weren’t able to get tickets. They suggested that we email the co-chair, who we have just recently gotten to know, asking to be put on a waiting list. Enter again the Good Shepherd who gave me the humility to reach out and acknowledge that I had procrastinated too long in buying our tickets. Wihin 3 minutes I received an email back. A sponsor who had purchased a table donated the table back to offer tickets to some individuals that the chairs felt would like to attend. Jeff and I were now going and for free! We were both so excited that the Holy Spirit had worked in this way and felt like our Father was providing us with a date night. Ahead of the auction I was able to peruse the auction items that were available to bid on. There were two that caught my eye and I entered the bidding fray. On the night of the auction as I took a closer look at these offerings, a separate auction item caught my eye. It was one that I had quickly looked over online but something about it nudged me to bid. For those of you who haven’t been to one of these events, or like Jeff and I, not recently, they are completely handled online these days. You enter your bid and your high bid and get notifications throughout the night as to when you are bid up or outbid. As the night progressed and my two priority bids were going up I made the decision that if I got outbid on my impulse bid, I wouldn’t go higher. I was reaching the max of our budget. We ended up getting all three auction items, the impulse bid was never raised. Upon delivering all of my goodies into the house I took a closer look at my ‘wins.’ The item that was my Good Shepherd nudge was a canvas picture of an angel holding a baby. Alongside it were several cards with the same image and a prayer from a mother to God for her miscarried child. My heart was immediately moved and I felt bad that I had not fully appreciated this print. Jeff and I have children in heaven due to miscarriage. The next morning my phone rang at 6:45am. It shouldn’t have rung, it is on do not disturb until 7:00am. It was my good friend Meg so I took the call. She explained that she knew I still got up early to pray and that she hoped she wasn’t disturbing that, but that she had a special prayer request especially since it was Divine Mercy Sunday. I lightheartedly told her that I was in fact sleeping but would head to prayer soon. Meg shared that a dear friend who has had struggles getting pregnant lost her baby to miscarriage earlier that week and could I lift her in prayer. I suddenly knew. I knew why Jeff and I had been given free tickets to be at that gala. I knew why I had been nudged to bid on that art piece. I knew why I had not been outbid. That piece of art was not for me, it was for Meg’s friend. I shared the story with Meg and arranged to bring the art to Mass for Meg to pass along. Last week Meg and I finally had the chance to follow up on her friend. Meg told me that she waited for the Holy Spirit to nudge her to the right time to get the artwork and give it to her friend. Her friend was sharing that her greatest grief was in not knowing where her baby was or if her baby was okay. When Meg gave her the artwork she cried and told Meg that in prayer she had asked for a sign from God that her baby was okay and this piece of art was exactly that. She shared that for the first time since she lost her baby she felt peace. Jesus is indeed a Good Shepherd Who tends to His flock; He nudges us here and there so that we can be part of God’s loving provision for others. I am continually filled with awe at the love of God for us and the amazing ways that He allows us to glimpse this love. The next time you feel a nudge think of Jesus gently steering you and follow the nudge. The greatest gift we receive oftentimes is the one we are invited to give to another.
From dust unto dust
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Hebrews 12:1)
Jesus said, “You believe because I told you I saw you under the fig tree. You will see greater things than that.” 51 He then added, “Very truly I tell you, you will see ‘heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on’ the Son of Man.” (John 1:49-51)
This past Sunday Jeff and I attended our parishes 10:00am Mass. We are usually 4pm or 8am Mass goers so this particular time frame was different. As we were sitting in our pew, my gaze was drawn the light that was streaming down in rays from the parapet windows we have in the ceiling. More specifically, my eye was drawn to dust. I have been accused of being a clean freak so this will not shock many who read this. My first thought was very holy of course, “I wonder when, if ever, they last vacuumed these pew cushions.” Each time we sat down or stood up I was entertained anew with clouds of dust swirling among the rays of sunshine. My next thought was slightly holier, “I should bring my vacuum and vacuum these cushions.” I quickly quenched that thought as I surveyed the number of pews and calculated the hours of labor this would entail. My third thought? “Boy, I’m impressed my asthmatic lungs don’t react to all this, but maybe this explains some of the coughing.” As we entered into the liturgy of the Eucharist another aspect of this dust captured my attention. At first glance it appeared that all the particulate matter was traveling upward, which would appear to defy the laws of gravity. What goes up must also come down. Upon closer attention, I did indeed witness that the particulates were traveling both directions. God can work all things for the good. He took my distraction and gave me (finally!) a worthy reflection. The Mass is the meeting of Heaven and Earth. It is known as the lifting of the veil and we are told that if we were given supernatural vision we would see that the hosts of heaven surround us at every Mass. The ascending and descending cloud of dust suddenly represented for me a physical representation of a spiritual reality. Imagine if each of those particles were an angel or Saint coming to rejoice in the Lord Jesus present to us in the Eucharist! I then had the realization that while the dust was only visible in the light, it was in fact floating everywhere in our church, not just where the rays of light illuminated. What a beautiful lesson, especially at communion! Just because we don’t perceive the presence of something doesn’t negate the truth of it’s true presence. Please enjoy this short seven minute video which conveys this very idea in a much more beautiful way than dust!
Abide in Me
Abide in Me, and I in you. (John 15:4)
I awoke this morning, Good Friday, and reflected on our Lord. Last night at the end of the Holy Thursday service, Jesus, in the Eucharist, is taken away from the tabernacle and placed within the shelter of our chapel. This morning I reflected that Jesus spent this morning ‘in custody.’ I reflected on all of those whom He loved scattered. I reflected on the times in my own life that I have been tempted to scatter. I have spent many a Good Friday indignant at the disciples. As I began my morning routine I reflected on the historical scattering of Jesus’ church. It is so easy to look back upon Jesus’ scattered faithful and scorn. It is easy because we have the benefit of the truth of Easter Sunday. The Lord placed the words on my heart, [It is GOOD Friday because we have the perspective of Easter Sunday.] Cue the plinko chips as things begin to fall into place. Jesus’ church has been fractured and scattered time and again over the millennia. Brothers and Sisters, we are living in a scattered church ourselves. Over the centuries, Jesus has been tried and condemned by His faithful who leave His church. The Church has suffered much evil that has been perpetuated from within, each time more and more decide this is the moment to leave. This is the moment that is irredeemable. I imagine the disciples and followers of Jesus felt the same when they witnessed Jesus arrested, or tried, or whipped, or carrying the cross, hanging on the cross, or finally laid in the tomb. For every Catholic initiated into the faith some 7 leave. Jesus had a handful of faithful at the foot of the cross, countless others left. In my relatively short life within the history of the Church, I have been ashamed, and deeply sorrowed at wounds inflicted by those who make up the church. I have been persecuted by patients, friends, and neighbors for staying. I have thought of leaving, I have. I remain. I abide. Last night I rejoiced with the good work our Lord is doing in our parish, in Mother Church, and in my own heart. This morning I realized that in remaining with our Lord in His church I have the benefit of witnessing the power of the Trinitarian God at work healing and building up His Church. I realized that when we step away from a relationship that relationship becomes frozen in the state that we leave it. So too with the church, when a person leaves they don’t get to see the healing, the good. They don’t get to see that with God all things are indeed possible. That God is powerful enough to redeem. I have abided in the Catholic Church through many ups and downs. I have remained as John, Mary, and Mary of Magdala at the foot of the cross. In the moment of the doubts, in the moments of pain, of one thing I was certain: I know that Jesus is truly present in the Eucharist. I remain where He remains.
“Where else would we go Lord, You alone have the words of eternal life.” (Jn 6:68)
“The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us.” (Jn 1:14)
So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you have no life in yourselves. (Jn 6:53)
There are many adjectives that have described my walk with Jesus in the Catholic Church: dutiful, lukewarm, frustrated, even despondant. God has worked through each of those over the years transforming them by transfiguring me. I have become “on fire”, pentecostal, evangelical. Several years ago the Lord called me to a Lenten walk of daily Mass. This began as twice a week, grew then to three times a week, and now has become my daily bread. Jesus has brought me to the fullness what has held me within the church all along; I have become a Eucharistic Catholic. Jesus from the cross cries out, “I Thirst.” He seeks to welcome home the weary, the hurt, the lost, the angry, the lukewarm. Jesus knows the whys of the wounds that drove each person away. He lived those wounds on His cross. Jesus thirst for all who remain away from Him. If this stirs anyone’s heart who reads it, can you have the courage of Peter, James, Matthew…? Can you come home to Him? For those of you who remain as I remain, we have work to do to help our brothers and sisters come home and feel welcomed. We must witness the power of God in the Church as we are told at the end of every Mass, “Let us go forth and announce the Gospel of the Lord, glorifying the Lord by our lives.”
Addendum: I wrote this on Good Friday, as I listened to Fr. Mike Schmitz’s Sunday sermon on Easter, I felt it ties in well. So I include a link below.
“I did not come to be served…”
Though I thought I had toiled in vain,
and for nothing, uselessly, spent my strength,
Yet my reward is with the LORD,
my recompense is with my God. (Isaiah 49)
Now before the Feast of the Passover, when Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart out of this world to the Father, having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. During supper, when the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon's son, to betray him, Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he had come from God and was going back to God, rose from supper. He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples' feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him.
(John 13:1-6)
“Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.” ~ Muhammad Ali
Sitting in church yesterday the priest spoke to the heart of the great need in our world for comfort. We are called as Christians to tend to the needs that we have the ability to tend to and to pray for those that are out of our control. He finished his homily with the quote from Muhammad Ali and it struck a deep note. I quickly wrote it down in a journal I keep in my purse for such occasions. Serving others, being the hands and feet of Christ can often feel like the lament of Isaiah: useless and in vain. This morning the daily readings brought us to the Last Supper and I “read on” so to speak. From yesterday’s homily, to today’s readings, something beautiful began to unfold for my own servant’s heart: Jesus in His infinite love, compassion, and mercy is seeking to encounter us this week in a way that empowers us for the mission ahead. Think about it. Jesus enters Jerusalem knowing what awaits Him. He is getting ready to give Himself over for us on the cross. That should be enough, but not for our God. Jesus spends His last days doing everything He can to ensure that His disciples, those who will carry on His mission, are tended to. From the washing of the feet to the implementation of the Eucharist, Jesus put His friends needs before His own. As I reflect and pray with this I ask the question, “How can He do what I know I myself could not?” The answer comes with great wisdom. Jesus stays present to the present moment. When He was at the Last Supper, He was fully present to the Last Supper, He was not consumed by what was to come. I have heard from many spiritual “heavy hitters” that the only place that God is present is in the present moment. The past and the future are the playground of the devil. One you cannot change, and the other has not even occured yet. Jesus, during the Last Supper stayed in the space where He could be with His Father, the present. It was from this space that He could empty Himself yet again in service of those He loved. As we walk this life of Christianity, becoming friends of Jesus and serving others for Him, we too can feel like the suffering servant in Isaiah. We can feel that our efforts are wasted. Isaiah points to another truth that we are invited to embrace this Holy Week: Our reward is with the Lord. Jesus is our minister in times of weariness. Let us be present to the present moments of this Holy Week. Put aside the worry and planning for whoever you may be ministering to (including Easter celebrations) and allow yourself to be ministered by Jesus.
The truth about sarcasm
Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. (1 Thessalonians 5:11)
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. (Psalm 19)
A gentle tongue is a tree of life, but perverseness in it breaks the spirit. (Proverbs 15:14)
Continuing my journey through Lent and my journey of metanoia, or a turn away from who I was and toward who God is calling me to be, my prayer this morning brought back a conversation that brought a greater depth to [the truth about sarcasm.] I was speaking with a woman who struggled with feeling loved and accepted by a family member. At an earlier point in our conversation she had shared that one thing that she felt she connected with this family member on what that they both used sarcasm. Holy Spirit connected the dots for me and I shared my insight with her. Sarcasm tends to use humor to highlight another person’s weaknesses, errors, and flaws. It is chalked up often as “all in good fun.” The problem with sarcasm is that it is hard to build another up if we are always making little cuts. Words of affirmation are one of the five love languages identified by Gary Chapman. When we are using sarcasm directly at a person we are not using affirmation, we are not allowing love to be part of our language. What does this have to do with Lent? In prayer God reminded me of a confession experience I had several years ago. As I prepare for the Sacrament of Reconciliation (ie confession) I like to use my phone to search out different examinations of conscience. It amazes me how different questions can convict my heart to a behavior I thought harmless that was in fact less than who God called me to be. Enter sarcasm. I remember sitting in the church several years ago when an examination question hit close to home, “Have I hurt my brother or sister with sarcasm?” Wait. What? Sarcasm is confessable?!?! Let me set the stage a bit. At one point in time I actually owned a t-shirt that proudly proclaimed: Sarcasm, just one more service I offer. No joke. Rest assured that when I have taken the quiz regarding love languages, words of affirmation is not a high scorer for me. Don’t get me wrong, not all sarcasm is bad, but the danger of sarcasm is that people can fall into the crosshairs of our wit. For Lent one year I made the commitment to be less sarcastic (note: not sarcastic free, baby steps.) God connected the dots in prayer to give me a fuller understanding of why He convicted my heart that day preparing for confession. Today, He gently reminds me to this tendency I still use in ways that truly do not build another up. The next time that I am frustrated or saddened with a relationship (much like the woman I was talking to) I can spend some time prayerfully reflecting on the proportion of time my language is building up versus the time I spend being ‘witty.’ In the meantime I invite our Lord Jesus into those places of my heart that use sarcasm as a defense strategy as well as the conversations that I have with others. Lord Jesus come!
From [Compulsory] to [Inherent]
The Lord said to Moses, “Speak to the entire assembly of Israel and say to them: 'Be holy because I, the Lord your God, am holy. Leviticus 19:1–2
Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have not come to abolish them, but to fulfill them. Matthew 15:7
During Lent I spend a lot of time reflecting on my Lenten practices of past. It is probably a coping mechanism for whatever struggle I face in the renewed or new practice that I have committed myself to for six weeks. Most years when I have felt the Lord call me to a different Lenten practice, I have seen it as a finite commitment, six weeks. Usually at the beginning of Lent I look forward to dropping my cross on Easter and returning to ‘normal.’ A funny thing seems to have happened though in the last 6 or so years, Easter comes and I don’t drop my cross, I continue to carry it. Somewhere in the six weeks what felt a burden has in some way become a blessing. The Lords words ring true,
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)
Lent at its core is an opportunity for practice; the invitation to live some aspect of our faith more regularly and more fully. 40 days in the desert give us six weeks to make something a habit and once something has become a habit, it becomes natural and easy. As I have been reading the daily Lenten scripture, God’s law is reiterated over and over. This can at times feel tiresome. It can feel like a perpetual reprimand of where we fall short. One morning, in prayer, two words came to me from Holy Spirit, [Compulsory] and [Inherent].
compulsory: required by law or rule; obligatory
inherent: existing in someone as an essential, permanent, or characteristic attribute.
Yet you say, The way of the Lord is not fair and just. Hear now, O house of Israel: Is not My way fair and just? Are not your ways unfair and unjust? (Ezekiel 18:25)
Our loving Father does not seek to saddle us for life with practices that are struggles. He seeks for us to practice His ways that they may be transformed from compulsory to inherent. The key to this isn’t six weeks. The key isn’t great discipline. The key is Jesus. Jesus is the fulfillment of the law because it is through coming to know Him, to truly be in relation with Him that God’s rule changes us, changes our hearts, and begins the holiness project within each of us. I witness this for myself in looking back over my Lenten practices. What I thought I was “doing” for God, was in fact allowing God to do something in me. While Lent is a finite season within the Church’s calendar, our call to holiness is an infinite season of “practice makes perfect”, of the compulsory becoming inherent.
Even so come…
Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart; for I am gracious and merciful.(Jl 2:12-13)
Who is there like you, the God who removes guilt…Who does not persist in anger forever…And will again have compassion on us?…You will cast into the depths of the sea all our sins (Micah 7:18-20)
But now we must celebrate and rejoice, because your brother was dead and has come to life again; he was lost and has been found. (Luke 15:32)
[Even so come.] These are the Words the Lord awakes me with this past Saturday. He did this in the form of a song refrain, ‘even so come’. I entered prayer with His words playing on my heart and mind. In the song playing in my head this refrain is our call to the Lord. In my prayer, Jesus is calling to each of us, ‘Even so come’. We are heading in to the fourth Sunday of Lent and as we have been walking with the Lord in His Word, the Lenten Word can feel heavy can’t it? We are reminded throughout this season of our human nature to sin, to draw back from God. We can feel shame and guilt. It is also human nature to want to hide from these things (cue Adam and Eve in the garden). We too avoid God in some way, shape, or form, hiding a part or all of our heart from what we fear. We are getting Lent all wrong brothers and sisters. We are looking at it from the perspective of man and not the perspective of God. Whatever it is that places space between us and our loving Father, His response is ALWAYS the same, ‘Even so come.’ There is only One who removes guilt with compassion and mercy: God. God is willing to cast into the depths of the sea all our sins. Halfway through Lent we are invited to evaluate our posture toward God in this season. Are we still trying to do things to earn His love and forgiveness? Are we acting as if it is just another day and Lent is a construct of the church? Are we falling and quitting or falling and getting up again and again? For the first time I realized that the best posture I can adopt is running; running into the waiting arms of the Father, pouring out from the depths of my heart all I am holding back in pride, fear, and anger. Lent is a season to allow ourselves to be forgiven, to be loved, to be welcomed, and to come home.